


In Bloom

by shcherbatskayas



Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Catterpillars in places they don't belong, F/M, Flowers don't give a shit about physics, Gen, Hanahaki Disease, Neither do I, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 11:19:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10898268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shcherbatskayas/pseuds/shcherbatskayas
Summary: Beauty didn't always neccessairly guarentee always goodness. For example, the flowers that grew in Peko Pekoyama's lungs were very beautiful. They were also certainly going to kill her some day.(Love, she thought, was the only force in the world that was guarenteed to destroy everything it touched.)





	In Bloom

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! It's me, here with the hanahaki fic nobody asked for. Fun fact, this was orginally going to be a one shot but I have Too Much going on, so there will be a chapter two! Also, when I say Ryouta in this fic, I mean the Ultimate Imposter because dusguises. Please enjoy!
> 
> Also, for Anh, Hanna, and Jan, who somehow survived me talking about this fic for like 2 months without actually writing it.

Peko Pekoyama had adjusted to coughing up flowers. Since the age of seven, she had been coughing up pretty, blood-stained petals at least three times a day. Hanahaki. That was what was wrong with her. At least, that was what the servant who discovered it said. According to her and to every other source Peko could find, it was borne from unrequited love. She didn’t even have to think who the petals were for when she heard. There was only one person.

 

Hanahaki, she supposed, was probably one of the worst ways for her to die. Sure, there were treatments that could help manage the symptoms and actually being loved back would cause the flowers to stop, but getting any of the treatments required confessing to actually having the disease and the concept of Fuyuhiko actually seeing her as a romantic prospect and loving her back was pure childishness. He would never love her back and she would never confess to it, and so she would die, but that was fine with her. Peko would take death by hanahaki over throwing away her position due to a love confession. She was supposed to feel nothing and admitting to a love bad enough that it would kill her was a guaranteed way to get herself kicked out. She ought to have confessed and given the position to someone who deserved it, someone who could truly be the emotionless tool that the Kuzuryuu clan needed, but she didn’t. It was pure selfishness, but Peko allowed herself that one selfish thing.

 

Her sensei found out after a year, but he was kind enough to keep quiet about it (or perhaps too proud of his position to risk not training the eventual guard of the Kuzuryuu heir). “The flowers don’t change the fact that you’re going to be the best swordswoman in Japan.” He said as he reached down her throat and grabbed a flower by the stem, pulling it out of her lungs. Peko didn’t scream. “The agony of it will make you stronger.”

 

Other than the coughing, Peko was content with her life. There were morning chores and busy school days and afternoon training and yakuza shenanigans and long, lovely days with Fuyuhiko at her side. More often than not, she would swallow the petals and then eventually throw them up over coughing in front of others. She would spend entire nights in the bathroom, her body anxiously trying to get rid of the flowers that infected it. That was how Fuyuhiko found her at age twelve. Her head was in the toilet and she had thrown up a whole bouquet’s worth of flower petals. He said nothing at first, just kneeled down behind her and held back her hair. If he noticed that Peko was sobbing, he said nothing about it. 

 

“I won’t tell.” Fuyuhiko promised, his voice softer than she had ever heard it. “I swear. But I’m gonna beat the shit out of whoever did this to you. What kind of fuckin’ idiot wouldn’t love you back? Or is it that he’s too dumb to realize it? I think hanahaki can be caused by both, can’t it?”

 

“Both.” She confirmed softly, wiping the corners of her mouth with a towel. “It can be caused by both.”

 

“Huh. Either way, they’re dumb and you deserve better.” He said, getting up and holding out a hand to help her. Peko smiled up at him, but it wasn’t a happy one. It was a small, sad thing, a smile of someone who had accepted their fate. 

 

“Thank you.” Peko said once she got up. “Thank you a thousand times over. I know I don’t deserve the position I hold, but--”

 

“You deserve more.” He interrupted. “It’s really the least I could do. My dumbass parents would throw you out and I’m not going to sit by and let that happen. Now come on, you probably need to sleep or whatever. That looks exhausting.”

 

She nodded and followed Fuyuhiko back to their rooms. Peko’s room wasn’t actually a room, but a repurposed closet inside of Fuyuhiko’s. It was just a bed, a small wardrobe, and her shinai. She couldn’t ask for anything better. 

 

That night, neither of them slept. Peko was kept wide awake with the shame of being discovered. Fuyuhiko was kept awake by trying to find the answer to the question he respected her too much to ask. He made a list of everyone they knew, from classmates to shopkeepers to high-level members of the yakuza, and started crossing out names to try and find the one who was the source of those pesky flowers. Not once did he consider writing down his own name. 

 

***

 

There were two issues with Hope’s Peak, and Peko discovered both of them within minutes of her arrival. The first issue was that the place was ripe with cases of hanahaki. The petals danced through the air and landed on people’s heads and backpacks and arms. Most of the cases were quick, four month things that faded with the season, but surely the odds of someone figuring out she had it were higher when the people knew what symptoms to look for. The second issue was that everyone was incredibly and incurably nosy. Not even a half an hour had passed before people started asking her who she liked best, which person she thought was the cutest or smartest or most fun to be around. Answering honestly would get her in trouble, so she merely shrugged and said that she hadn’t decided yet. She was still shrugging after half of a year. After all, if she even suggest that she liked someone, the whole class would start scrutinizing her for signs.

 

“Come ON, Peko! Ibuki’s gotta know! How’s she gonna write a super cool love song about a ninja when her friendly neighborhood ninja won’t tell her who she loves?” Ibuki begged, laying on her desk and giving her puppy dog eyes. 

 

“A true lady never tells such things. I, for one, admire Peko’s silence on the matter! It’s truly quite amazing.” Sonia said, turning around to give her the classic princess smile. Peko nodded in response. 

 

“Thank you.” She said softly, pretending to look over her math homework. “I’m telling the truth, Mioda. There’s no one.”

 

“Ibuki thinks you’re _lying_.” She declared, pushing up Peko’s glasses. “You always look down when you’re lying about things.”

 

Before Peko could stutter out a response, Fuyuhiko cut into the conversation. “God, who fucking cares?!” He asked. “So what if Pekoyama has the hots for someone? It doesn’t matter. Leave the girl alone, your badgering is getting really fuckin’ annoying.”

 

Ibuki gasped at that statement, looking absolutely horrified before glancing over at Sonia and then grinning. “Actually, Ibuki thinks that she knows somebody who--”

 

Before she could finish that thought, Chisa walked into the room to begin the lesson. Peko held her breath and tried to force herself to swallow the two petals that rested on the tip of her tongue to no avail. They simply wouldn’t go back down. 

 

***

 

Three days later, the real panic began. Over time, the hanahaki had only gotten worse and worse until it forbade Peko from swallowing anything. She had gone two days without food or water and it was starting to show. At least she could still breathe through her nose. This sustained her until she started seeing black spots in her vision as Chisa explained the finer points of English literature. Through sheer force of will, she was able to make it through that lesson. Out of fear of what her voice would sound like, she didn’t say a word throughout the whole thing, only shaking her head when she was called on and giving Chisa a pleading glance that she clearly understood.

 

As soon as their lunch break began, Peko made her way to the restroom and sat down on the floor. All morning, she felt the flowers creeping up her throat until the stems were on the back of her tongue and the petals were touching the tips of her teeth. She could barely get a breath in and once she was certain the rest of the class was out of earshot, she started coughing up the petals. There must’ve been a thousand of them and they were swept out of the window and down onto the ground by some divine wind. The pale silver-white of the petals falling down made her think of snow, but the spots of blood on them reminded her of what they really were. She could see people in the commons looking up at shaking their heads in confusion. Hanahaki rarely ever produced more than twenty petals at a time, but Peko had kept it all in for so long that she produced enough petals to block out the sun.

 

The stems. That was what needed to go. If she could get to the stems, she could end this for at least an hour. Peko was no stranger to have the flowers pulled out, but she had never done it herself. But there was no choice now. She had to get rid of them or she would die right then and there.

 

Peko took a deep breath through her nose before opening her mouth and grabbing the stems. They were thick and dark green and felt almost unbreakable, but she had no choice. Despite the pain of pulling something out of her lungs, Peko tugged and tugged and tugged until she got a solid six inches of it out of her mouth. Six inches was all she needed. That would be enough to let air into her lungs. She grabbed her shinai and cut through them and smiled in victory. Peko had handled the crisis and now she could go back to school like everything was normal. She might even be able to make it in time for the last minute of lunch.

 

Peko walked out of the restroom, carefully kicking the vine-like stems out of sight. She started heading to the cafeteria, excited by the possibility of actually having food for the first time in days. There was only one thing she forgot, and that was the old wive’s tale about what happened to those who ripped out the flowers on their own.

 

_The man who grabs the flowers with his own two hands and pulls_  
Will think that all his pain has past  
And then the Gods will see and enact their ancient rules:  
Take out one and it grows back twice as fast 

 

Peko had just started to hear the voices of a few of her classmates when she felt the flowers start to grow again. She recognized Ibuki’s loud singing and Mikan’s quiet giggle and Ryouta’s occasional clever comments and she tried to think of what to say to them, of what valid excuse she would have for skipping lunch. As she tried to think, she heard Akane and Fuyuhiko, bickering about something she couldn’t quite understand. She could feel the flowers growing, clogging up her lungs and her throat faster than she could ever remember them doing. There seemed like there wasn’t enough air in the world and the stems felt like they had grown thorns and she ended up placing a hand on the wall to steady herself. 

 

“So then I said--huh? Peko, are you alright?” Akane asked, tilting her head in confusion. 

 

“I’m fine.” She said, her voice short and clipped and breathless. “Just developing a cold, I think.”

 

“Oh no!” Mikan scurried towards her and Peko instinctively took a step back, tripping over her own foot in the process. She hadn’t tripped in years and was so shocked that she almost forgot to be embarrassed. 

 

Mikan pressed a hand to her forehead and frowned before pressing it against both of Peko’s cheeks. Peko looked to Fuyuhiko, raising her eyebrows as if silently asking if it was okay. Behind Mikan, Fuyuhiko nodded once, signaling that it was more than alright with him for Mikan to give her a check up. Peko noticed the concern on his face and couldn’t help but be confused. Certainly he knew what was wrong and if it was getting worse, that just meant he was closer to getting rid of her. She couldn’t understand why Fuyuhiko wouldn’t be silently rejoicing over the death of his meddlesome tool, but she tried not to think about it on the off chance that she developed some ridiculous idea. His kindness always inspired some form of hope in her, hope that she had to swallow or cut out or crush with her bare hands.

 

Mikan looked her over again and furrowed her brows. “Hm. Um, I should probably finish checking up on you in my office. If you could--unless you don’t want to! But I’m really worried about this cold and I--”

 

“I’ll go with you.” Peko interrupted, partially to help Mikan avoid talking herself into a panic and partially because Ryouta was giving her a face that suggested that she ought to go with her and she really didn’t feel like pissing off the weeb. The thorns were beginning to cut up her throat and talking was painful, but she managed to get the words out anyways. 

 

“Pekoooooo, your voice sounds weird! Like there’s something stuck in your throat.” Ibuki complained. “Open your mouth!”

 

At that request, Peko began to panic. Certainly if she opened her mouth and let Ibuki look, she would see and then she would _know_ and she couldn’t stand the idea of someone else knowing. The concept made her want to curl up into a ball and hide, but she didn’t know how to refuse. Black spots started dancing in the corner of her vision again as she tried to decide what to do. After a second of deliberation, Peko opened her mouth, squeezing her eyes shut so that she couldn’t see the reactions. 

 

“H-o-o-o-ly SHIT!” Akane declared.

 

“Ack! That looks awful!” Ibuki said. 

 

“Hanahaki?” Ryouta asked, most likely turning towards Mikan because she softly said “Hanahaki,” in confirmation. Fuyuhiko said nothing. 

 

“Please.” Peko said, desperation leaking into a voice that was rapidly fading. “Please don’t tell anyone.” 

 

“I won’t, b-but you need to get that treated!” Mikan said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Peko opened her eyes and saw that Mikan was gesturing for her to sit down, which she did. After a moment of just looking at her in concern, Mikan stood up straight and started ordering people around. 

 

“Akane, I need you to go into my office and get the stretcher. Ibuki, go with her and get the oxygen tank and the cannula right by it. The oxygen tank is bright green, so you should be able to find it. Then I need you to come right back here, okay? As fast as you can.” She told them, looking more confident than anyone could ever remember. 

 

“Got it!” Akane said and then ran off, Ibuki right on her heels. Then Mikan took out her phone and handed it to Ryouta. 

 

“Ryoua, I need you to go through my contacts and find Dr. Suzuki. He’s the doctor on call right now. Tell him that we have a severe hanahaki case coming into the main office in three minutes and that he needs to get a quick surgery team together.” Ryouta nodded and took the phone before stepping away from the scene so that he could call the doctor. 

 

While Mikan was going through the motions of getting everyone organized and where she needed them, Fuyuhiko made his way over to Peko. He sat down next to her and awkwardly wrapped an arm around her shoulders, entirely unused to comforting people but not willing to just stand there and do nothing. “It’ll be alright. You’re going to be okay.” He said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “You’ll cough all of that up and Mikan will fix it and no one will ever have to know.”

 

Peko wanted to reply, to say something desperate and stupid because having her classmates know about all of this felt like the end of the world, even if they agreed not to tell. Instead when she opened her mouth, she coughed up a pile of petals that refused to settle on the ground and instead floated through the hallway a few inches above Peko’s head. 

 

“Good! Keep coughing.” Mikan encouraged, kneeling in front of Peko and taking one of her hands. “Just keep coughing.”

 

She followed those orders, filling up the hall with petals in between wheezes. Fuyuhiko squeezed her shoulders and Mikan held onto her hand and Peko tried her hardest not to cry because it felt like she was going to die right then and there, like it was going to kill her and everyone would know and she would die as a disgrace to the Kuzuryuu clan and a disgrace to her family (whoever they were) and a disgrace to herself. 

 

In between the coughing fits, Peko let out one sob. Just one. It was all she could allow herself. Fuyuhiko pulled her close and whispered something comforting that she couldn’t understand, but she could hear his voice and that was enough. It was her love for him that was killing her, but the fact that he was here made up for the fact that she was going to die. That was a well-established fact in her mind and Peko suddenly wanted to sob again because she realized that she wanted something else, and that was to not die. She had people who were almost friends and a duty and classes to go to and she deserved none of it, but she had it and Peko didn’t want it to go away in a flurry of blood-soaked flowers and thorns in her throat. 

 

Akane and Ibuki made it back within minute and soon enough, there were tubes in her nose and Peko had some more oxygen. The process of getting up and onto the stretcher was awkward. Her legs were shaky and she refused to let Akane pick her up until she almost fell three times and then she accepted her hand and looked away as Akane helped her onto the stretcher. 

 

“Let’s go.” Mikan said, grabbing her phone from Ryouta and leading the way through the storm of flower petals. Ibuki and Akane pushed the stretcher and followed. Ryouta held the oxygen tank and Fuyuhiko just walked next to Peko, taking a risk and holding out his hand to her. She accepted it if only because Peko was certain she would never get the opportunity to hold his hand ever again. It was nice and warm and she was determined not to die when she was doing something as pleasant as holding hands with Fuyuhiko, not even if dying meant that she would stop coughing. 

 

They made it into the nurse’s office, which was more hospital than nurse’s office. Professionals shooed Ibuki, Akane, and Ryouta away. Peko didn’t have the energy to focus on the specifics of what was being said, but she understood that they were trying to get Fuyuhiko to go, too. He kept shaking his head and stayed by her side, hand still entangled in hers. Between coughs, she managed half of a smile. He was so stubborn and stupid and absolutely wonderful and Peko didn’t know if she wanted him to leave so that he didn’t have to see any of this or if she wanted him to stay with her. 

 

At some point, a doctor straightened out her arm and stuck a needle in her, saying something about how she’d start to feel tired and that would be good, that it wasn’t death and that she shouldn’t fight it. Peko almost didn’t trust him until she started to feel the exhaustion come over her and realized that it had to be anesthesia because death didn’t make her feel this tired. She looked up at Fuyuhiko, who she could barely see through the petals, and squeezed his hand multiple times, trying to send a message in Morse code because she couldn't speak. She got out _Thank y--_ before she passed out. 

 

***

 

Peko Pekoyama woke up alone, staring at a pristine white ceiling. She rubbed her eyes and felt around the nightstand for her glasses, which she put on her face as soon as she could. The room was just a standard room in the nurse’s office, but she was attached to a variety of machines. There was the cannula in her nose and the clip on her finger that monitored her heart rate and a few IVs. One of them was for a painkiller and the other was probably something for dehydration, but she couldn’t guess which one was which. It was dark outside, so she guessed that whatever they did to her must have taken a while. 

 

Mikan walked past her room and Peko lifted her hand in half of a wave before Mikan came running in. 

 

“Peko!” She exclaimed, glancing at the monitors before sitting down next to her. “You look better! How are you feeling?”

 

She had to think about that, frowning at a spot a few inches to the left of Mikan’s head as she tried to come up with an answer. “I’m not in pain.”

 

“That’s good! I know that y-you probably just want to rest, but I have to run some tests! I’m so sorry!” Mikan ducked her head and Peko let out a small sigh. At least some things never changed.

 

“It’s alright, Tsumiki. It’s more important that you do your job. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to rest later.” Peko said in the most consoling tone she could muster, which wasn’t particularly consoling at all. As Mikan lead her to another room where she would be getting an x-ray and talked her through all of the instructions, Peko thought about what would happen next. Certainly somebody would’ve called whoever was listed as her guardian on her papers, which would’ve been a high level yakuza member. Certainly they would have told the Kuzuryuu’s. Certainly they would be less than pleased. Certainly she would be fired and kicked out and left with nothing and worse than dead and just a burden on the world and--

 

“Peko? Peko, just breathe with me, okay? I-I’m going to count to eight and we’re going to breathe in, and then we’re going to exhale _sl-o-o-o-wly_.” Mikan interrupted her thoughts and started counting as Peko laid beneath the machine that was supposed to be scanning her lungs. She hadn’t even realized she was hyperventilating until Mikan mentioned it and she felt even worse, felt pathetic and weak beyond comprehending. 

 

Eventually, the scan was completed and Peko had enough air in her lungs and she was lead back to her room. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” She said softly, not finding it in herself to look Mikan in the eye. “That’s never happened before.”

 

“I-It’s fine!” Mikan reassured her, patting her hand and then checking all of her vitals to make sure she was alright. “My shift ends soon, b-but I promise my colleagues are much more competent than me! And once the doctor gets in tomorrow morning, he’ll explain everything to you! But, um, I’ll go get you a glass of water, mkay? You’re a little more dehydrated than I would like.”

 

Mikan returned with water and then left again, leaving Peko to drink in peace and then try to sleep, but to no avail. She just laid with her eyes shut and tried to keep from panicking again and realistically consider her options. If she was fired (which she probably was--she was meant to be a tool, and Peko knew that there were dozens of people vying to be her replacement), then she would either return to being a maid like she had been when she was a child or she would be kicked out. Peko could live with being a maid again. It was tiring, sure, but cleaning was oddly cathartic for her and it meant that she would still have a place to live and food on the table. She could live with that. Being disgraced and homeless would be significantly harder. 

 

While she feigned sleep, a figure came into the nurse’s office. He attracted a fair bit of attention and it was not hard to see why. He was old, but he stood up perfectly straight and had an intimidating aura about him, from the pristine part in his hair to the sword he had strapped to his leg. Peko recognized the sound of his footsteps on the floors and heard the low sound of his voice as he spoke to the nurse on duty.

 

“Just a few minutes. It’s very important business.” She heard her sensei tell the nurse and Peko half opened her eyes and looked through the crack in the door to see him handing her a nice pile of money. The nurse nodded and started heading towards her room and Peko quickly closed her eyes again. 

 

“Ms. Pekoyama?” The nurse said, tapping her shoulder lightly in an attempt to wake her up. “Ms. Pekoyama, your...I’m sorry, how did you say you were related to her?”

 

“Uncle.” He said gruffly, scoffing at the fact that Peko was pulling the childish trick of pretending to be asleep. He knew her well enough to know that she would’ve woken up the moment he entered the nurse’s office.

 

“Your uncle is here to see you.” She finished lamely. Peko opened her eyes and nodded, watching silently as the nurse began to take out her IVs and unhook her from the variety of machines she was attached to. After that, she left the room and Peko was left staring at her old teacher and wondering what news he brought with him. 

 

“Get up.” He ordered sharply, and Peko didn’t even hesitate to follow those orders. He opened a bag and tossed a kimono at her. It was a pretty thing, silky and soft and pure white. She looked over at her sensei and he nodded once before turning away. He didn’t have to say what she had been ordered. Peko looked at that white kimono and knew what she was supposed to do. 

 

It wouldn’t be the first time that she had prepared to commit seppuku. The first time was when she was eleven and she and Fuyuhiko had been kidnapped. She managed to get him out, but Peko was trapped and she knew the dishonor of being captured and knew exactly what enemy yakuza liked to do to kidnapped young girls. It had been a practical decision, one she had been told about two years before. Death was preferable to capture. That was what she was told and that was what she believed. She had sliced her abdomen open and waited to die, but that was when more yakuza members came in. Peko was lucky enough to live that time. She wouldn’t be so lucky now. 

 

Peko took her time changing into the kimono. It was a nice thing to die in and for a moment, she was sorry for the fact that she was going to ruin it with her blood. It was a stupid thing to be upset about, but she was upset about it. The fact that she knew that she was going to be dying in this outfit, that she knew her death was no more than an hour away, felt like something from a strange dream. There was no way this could be real. 

 

“You’re a lucky girl, you know.” Her sensei said as they left the nurse’s office and began walking down the halls. “You get to die with some of your honor left.”

 

“I am.” She agreed, but as she looked around the school where she had actually been permitted to have fun and be somewhat normal, she didn’t feel particularly lucky. Peko had lived a good life and had been able to love someone and had been able to make something like friends along the way, but it was hard to feel blessed when being led to your death at sixteen. There was still more life left in her. “I’m so lucky.”

 

They walked in silence for a long time and Peko wondered what it would feel like to actually die. She had come close with the flowers earlier that day, but they presumably removed most of them. Peko could still feel a few remaining in the bottom of her lungs, but she could breathe somewhat clearly. She supposed that it would be quicker this time. Certainly her sensei would be her second and would chop off her head as soon as she made the slice across her abdomen, so she would only be aware of the agony for a few seconds. Still, it would be a long few seconds. 

 

Peko didn’t know how long they walked for. It could have been hours. It could have been minutes. It could have been days. Either way, they ended up in front of the river that ran through the Hope’s Peak gardens. It was a pretty place to die. Peko coughed once, twice, three more times. A few petals made their way into the water and floated away. 

 

She knelt in front of the river and tried not to think about if she would bleed out first or drown. Her sensei placed everything she needed right next to her. A sword. A piece of paper. A pen. Some rope for her knees so that she wouldn’t die in a dishonorable position. He stood behind her and undid her hair, placing the ribbons in his pocket. 

 

“As a woman, your hair is your honor.” He said, repeating what he had told her a thousand times before. Her hair was the one thing Peko had taken some pride in. She spent countless hours washing it and brushing it and braiding it and tying ribbons into it and now that would be gone, too. He didn’t have to tell her to cut her hair. Peko just picked up the sword and did it, leaving herself with a bob that fell slightly past her chin. She could feel the night breeze on the back of her neck and shivered. 

 

“Thank you.” Peko said, picking up the pen and starting to write a rather plain apology to whoever would find her body and to everyone she was letting down with her failure. 

 

“For?” Her sensei prompted, watching her write and wrinkling his nose. “And you misspelled ‘sincerest.’”

 

Peko quickly scratched it out and corrected her spelling before answering. “For being my second.” 

 

He laughed at that and she recoiled, trying to figure out what she had done wrong. He never laughed unless Peko had done something ridiculous. She didn’t dare turn to face him and instead focused on her paper, pretending not to notice the laughter. 

 

“You foolish child.” He scoffed, placing a hand on her shoulder for half of a second. “You’re here to die alone.”

 

Peko turned around at those words, but it was too late. He was already walking away. She watched the water for a long time, watched how it kept moving no matter what was in the way and remembered an afternoon when she was studying some philosopher she didn’t care for much and how he said life was like a river. Soft and yielding, yet strong enough to cut through stone and bound to the will of no man. When she read it, it hadn’t made sense, but Peko understood it now.

 

She was bound to no one anymore. Sure, she had been ordered to die, but she had also been removed from her position. There was no force obliging her to go through with it except for the expectations of people that had cut her off and couldn’t do anything to her now. The order was theirs, but the decision to follow through with it was hers.

 

Peko ripped up the letter and threw it in the river, watching some of the water turn black, but the ink didn’t stop it. Despite the difficulty, it just kept going on. She wished that she could be like that, but she doubted she was strong enough. She doubted that she deserved to try and be that strong. 

 

With one last sigh, Peko picked up the sword and made her choice. 

 

***

 

The sun rose the next day and Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu was fucking pissed. “What do you mean you ordered her to kill herself?!” He shrieked into the phone. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

 

Supposedly Peko’s sensei offered some sort of explanation, but he didn’t care to hear it. He threw the phone at a wall and watched it break with a satisfying snap before running to the hospital. Surely they would know if she had done something like that. Surely they would have saved her. On his way there, Fuyuhiko passed a variety of his confused classmates. Most of them just stayed out of his way, but Akane followed him. 

 

“GO TO CLASS AKANE, OH MY GOD. YOU NEED THAT MATH REVIEW.” He yelled at her, but she shook her head and kept going.

 

“If you’re running, I’m running. That’s what friends are for!” She insisted and Fuyuhiko actually stopped running for a second and looked at her in confusion. 

 

“Friends…?” He said before shaking his head. “Wh-Whatever, let’s just GO!”

 

The duo ran into the nurse’s office and after stopping to ask for direction, ran right into Peko’s room. To Fuyuhiko’s amazement, she was alive and well and had her nose buried in a book. She looked up in confusion, watching the rise and fall of Fuyuhiko’s chest and Akane’s broad grin and frowned. 

 

“Did something happen?” She asked, coughing up a few more petals and watching as they danced in the air around the room. 

 

“I...I thought...What’s-his-face called and…” Fuyuhiko pulled at his tie and tried to explain, but Peko shook her head. 

 

“I made a choice. It wasn’t that.” Peko said, shrugging once and putting her book down. 

 

“Hey, all of your hair is gone!” Akane said, gesturing to her head. “It looks nice! I can see your face and all.”

 

Peko actually smiled at the compliment, a quick thing that made Fuyuhiko’s chest hurt. “Thank you. I need to fix the ends a bit, but I’ll worry about that later. Right now I’m supposed to focus on coughing up petals and eventually butterflies.” 

 

“Butterflies?” She asked, squinting at Peko in confusion. “What do butterflies have to do with anything?”

 

“It’s an experimental treatment. Supposedly the caterpillars they put in my lungs are going to eat all of the flowers and once the get out of their cocoons and turn into butterflies, I’m going to sneeze and they’ll be gone. It’s worked well for everyone who’s tried it so far.” Peko explained, sounding very calm about the fact that there were caterpillars in her lungs. 

 

“That’s SO COOL!” Akane said as she poked Fuyuhiko. “Isn’t that cool?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s cool.” Fuyuhiko cleared his throat and gave Peko an awkward smile. Something in his chest felt weird, something that he couldn’t explain and something that he didn’t want to. “How long is that supposed to take.”

 

“About two weeks, but I should be out of the hospital in a few days. After that, I’ll just have to keep getting more caterpillars until the whole things stops on its own.” Peko told them, gesturing to x-rays that hung on the walls. “If you want to look, you can see them in the pictures.”

 

Akane ran over to the x-rays and started examining them, giving names to each of the caterpillars. Fuyuhiko occasionally commented on them, but mostly he looked at Peko and tried to comprehend that she was alive. While Fuyuhiko did this, she opened a book, took a pen, underlined a few words, and handed him the book and the pen. 

 

 _Thank you for everything._ He read the phrase and flipped through a few more pages, trying to find one with every word he needed. Once Fuyuhiko found it, he underlined all of them and handed it back to Peko. 

 

_It’s no problem. Do you have somewhere to stay?_

 

_That’s still being sorted out._

 

_If I can help, let me know, okay?_

 

“Hey, look at this one! It’s actually eating the flower.” Akane said, summoning Fuyuhiko to go look at it. While he did that and then got roped into a debate over the best name for that particular caterpillar (Akane wanted to name it Godzilla Jr. And Fuyuhiko wanted to call it Eiji), Peko opened another book and underlined a few more words. Once he was able to get away and comment from the chair beside Peko’s bed, Fuyuhiko read the newest message. 

 

 _What are we now?_ were the words she had underlined.

 

_Friends?_

 

_I would like that, if you’re okay with it._

 

Fuyuhiko was just in the middle of looking for some words to express that he was more than okay with that when the bell rang, signaling the start of classes. He jumped up from his chair and glared at the ceiling, as if the bell had personally offended him. “Shit!” He declared before looking back at Peko. “Um, your hair looks nice and I’m glad you’re not dead and feel better and I’ll get you new ribbons because that asshole probably took them and feel better and--Fuck, I already said that! Um, yeah. Just do those things. Unless you don’t want to! But like, please feel better and we should go. We’re going! Akane, come on!” 

 

He dragged Akane out of the room by her arm, his face bright red as they ran to class. 

 

“What was all of that about?” She asked between bouts of laughter. “You just--the ribbons?--and who was that guy you kept talking about? And why did--”

 

“Shut up! I’ll explain late, but we gotta go! Yukizome is going to be pissed if we’re any more than a minute late.” Fuyuhiko brushed off her questions with that one phrase and they made it into class with ten seconds to spare. Akane was still laughing and Fuyuhiko sunk into his seat as the lesson began, but he couldn’t sulk for too long because Peko was alive and okay and would only be getting better. 

 

Sometime in the middle of Chisa’s review, Fuyuhiko thought of her again. He thought of Peko Pekoyama and her new haircut and her silent ways of talking without saying a thing. He remembered the way she would rewrite her notes before tests and the way she stood during kendo competitions just before going in for an attack and the fact that she would always stop and offer a few crumbs to any animal she saw on the streets.

 

A flower petal made its way in from outside. It floated across the room for a few seconds, the wind tossing it this way and that, and it eventually landed right on his desk. It was a pretty shade of silver, almost white, and he admired it for half of a second before sticking it in his pocket. After that, he put his head down on his desk and sighed heavily, waiting for a cough that would never come. 

 

***

Somewhere, not too far away from that classroom but just far enough, flowers ceased to grow and Peko Pekoyama could finally breathe for the first time in years.


End file.
